One of the things that’s difficult for me about living in Germany is the total absence of spicy food. German cuisine is bland. The best they can think of to spice it up seems to be mustard or possibly a dab of horseradish. As someone who likes curries and chilli dishes this just doesn’t challenge the taste-buds enough.
So over Easter I was excited to find this range of sauces being used in a restaurant we visited. It’s called Flying Goose Brand. The owner kindly told us where she’d bought it… and we duly toddled along and acquired a couple of bottles. The extra-garlic and the super hot chilli variety.
I have one thing to say about this sauce. It must never ever fall into the hands of our enemies.
I’d made a rice and stir-fry lunch and we thought we’d try the new sauces with it. All of us are used to spicy additives in our family. I regularly add chillies to our food. I chuck tabasco into most things. I have a large size jar of sambal there on the shelf… and a tube of harissa lurking in the fridge…
But the Flying Goose is something else again. It has truly caustic properties. It is so hot it feels like the skin is peeling from your mouth. Your tongue becomes paralysed… your throat is on fire and as the food slowly sears its way to your stomach you know you just made the biggest mistake in your life.
That was the extra-hot one. The extra garlic variety has the advantage that it is every so slightly less spicy… but it also has the disadvantage that nobody will ever sit in the same room as you again. The garlic content is overwhelming. You breathe garlic, you sweat garlic … the neighbours three streets away are wondering where that garlic smell is coming from. It seeps into the carpets and curtains. The walls absorb the smell of garlic. You are forced to demolish your home.
The effect lasts for days. It takes twenty four hours for the burning taste to subside… but by then the food is working its way relentlessly through your system and suddenly you understand why it is called Flying Goose Brand. Whatever you ate goes through you, just like shit through a goose.
Actually, it reminded me less of a flying goose and more of the space shuttle on take off. Because the fire has not abated during its long journey through your intestines… if anything the after-burn is even worse than the initial flame.
Of course, at this point you realise you’ve left it too late to flee the country. Because Germany, with its inspection-shelf model toilets is not the place you want to be when Flying Goose diarrhoea strikes…
After about half a day you stop functioning like a human flame-thrower and over the course of the next week your system slowly begins to recover. Your appetite returns and the thing you crave most in the world is a spicy kebab….
Slowly, reluctantly, you reach for the Flying Goose bottle again….